


Batfamily dribs and drabbles

by AwkwardBlueFish



Category: Batfamily - Fandom, Batman - Fandom, DC - Fandom, Marvel, Red Robin (Comics), Young Justice
Genre: Age reversal au!, Angst, Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Death, Fluff, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, a bunch of drabbles, batfam, batfamily
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-29
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-05-28 08:01:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15044345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AwkwardBlueFish/pseuds/AwkwardBlueFish
Summary: Just batfamily drabbles, sometimes with crossovers!New: Jason forgets sometimes, when he snaps up and his throat is raw from screaming and his chest is beating like thunder trapped in a cage. He forgets everything and nothing and it terrifies him.





	1. Ignoring a call for help

Tim’s on his knees, gasping. Blood is pooling down the side of his face and he can’t breath. Ribs are bruised and cracked and Tim is having trouble moving. The sound of fighting in the background makes Tim stand, stand on trembling legs and he stumbles to Ironman, Tony Stark.

When the Justice League got a call from the Avengers demanding help Tim never thought this would, _could_ , happen. Neither did the JL, that’s why they’re not here, they’re not here and people are dying. They’re not here, not helping, they’re letting other heroes be killed trying to save the universe and they won’t come!

Tim remembers seeing Bruce, Batman ignore the call for help. Tim knew there was something amiss, the Avengers don’t ask for help, or the Guardians of the Galaxy.

So he hacked into Tony Stark’s armour and asked for a debrief. In a short time Red Robin has met the Avengers and the Guardians of the Galaxy he had seen them _die_ , turn to _ash_ or simply be _murdered_.

He’s tried to contact the other heroes to get them off their damn high horse and fucking help but being in outer fucking space is making it a little difficult.

Loki, Gamora, Doctor strange, Black Panther, the Winter Soldier, Mantis, Drax, Starlord, Scarlet Wotch, Falcon, Maria Hill, Nick fury all dead, all gone. Half the world was gone. Ash in the air or bodies rotting on the ground. Groot was a freaking teenager! Hell, Tim was older than him. Then there’s Peter, he’s only fifteen and he’s fighting Thanos.

Tim stumbles and drops to his knees a couple of feet behind Tony Stark. Tim had been one of the ones to come to Thanos to stop him, or at least slow him down. Tony swirls around and the next thing Tim knows is he’s being lifted up. Gasping for breath he manages to lift one hand to rip the stupid cowl off his face so he can, _finally_ , breathe.

Tony looks a little startled, since meeting with the Avengers Tim has refused to reveal himself. Tim guesses old habits die fast. Looking around the dead planet Tim sees Thanos isn’t here. He doesn’t know if it’s a good thing or not.

“He’s gone.” Tony’s saying, noticing that Tim’s looking around.

“Yeah.” Tim breaths out as little Peter stumbles towards them with mussed up hair and a pale face. Throughout the short time Tim’s been with the two he’s formed a bond. Peter is like a little brother to him and it freaks him out. He’s two, just two years older than Damian and Damian has had training from assassins and compared to that Peter, Peter has nothing. It terrifies him. Then there’s Tony, you either hate him or love him. He’s honestly like an uncle to Tim, it’s a little weird honestly.

“Mr Stark, Red, I don’t feel so good.” Tim’s eyes lock on to Peter instantly, he’s terribly pale and he’s looking at his hands.

“You’re alright.” Tony says and it’s a terrible lie really but Tim echos it anyway.

“I don’t- I don’t know what’s happening-“ he can’t even finish his sentence before he collapses into Tim and Tony and it’s a pile of awkward limbs but no ones letting go.

“I don’t want to go, I don’t want to go,” and Tim’s stifling a sob because he doesn’t want him to go, he really doesn’t.

Peter keeps mumbling the same lines and Tim’s going to break soon. Together they collapse on the ground, Peter staring at the both of them and Tim doesn’t know what Tony’s doing but Tim’s clutching at Peter and begging to a god he doesn’t believe in.

“I’m sorry.” Peter says and Tim wants to sob as the boy slips through his fingers, he chases after dust because god dammit this shouldn’t be happening, yet it is.

Tim’s leaning on Tony and vaguely hears him speaking to Nebula. Tim continues to watch Peter fly away with a heart breaking.

—————

“Tim?” Tim pulls himself from under the ship they’re making. So far everything is up and running from parts except the power source. It’s frustrating beyond belief, then again they’ve been working on it for five hours. With three people knowing how to work machines and create different things it’s not too difficult.

“Yeah?” Tim looks up at Tony Stark who has no suit and it’s quite strange.

“We’ve found a power source.”

Tim gets up and follows him, they’re about to get off the damned planet. When Tim does he’s ripping the JL a new one.

—————

The ship had crash landed on the outskirts of Gotham and Tim wants to cry, it’s pure chaos. Before a second thought can cross Tim’s mind he’s telling the two to get geared up while he goes get reinforcements. Tony looks bitter knowing who, but he can tell Tim’s just as pissed as him so he lets him leave.

Tim’s sprints to the closest safe house and grabs as much as he can before hopping on the spare bike. He’s driving to the cave in ten minutes.

——————

Tim feels sick, he’s parked outside the cave and he doesn’t even know if the others are alive. Duke, Cass any of them. They might have been gone with a click of the fingers. Swallowing down bile Tim activates the engine and the camera scans him like everything is normal when _nothing_ is.

As soon as the secret door closes Tim can hear the rushing water and bats screeching and arguing. Lots of arguing about godamn cookies. Tim’s going to cry, he wonders why he hasn’t already.

Tim’s still speeding into the cave and doesn’t bother slowing down, doesn’t bother parking when he’s jumping off the speeding motorcycle and sprinting towards his family. Every single one of them.

“What the hell replacement!?” Jason shouts as he sees his bike skid across the platform. Tim doesn’t care, he’s still running to them, he’s opening his arms and hugs the first person to him tightly. He doesn’t care who it is, except Bruce, he’s still pissed at Bruce.

“Drake?! Mmphhh!” Turns out it was Damian. Tim’s hugs tighter as the silence echoes through the whole cave, minus Damian’s annoyed shouts.

Tim’s up in a second hugging Cass, then Duke, Dick, Jason and finally Alfred.

“Timmy is everything alright..?” Dick asks, brows furrowed in concern.

“What the hell was that replacement?” Jason grumbles angrily. He’s still pissed about his bike.

“Where’s Bruce?” Tim asks and he can’t help but let the venom drip from his lips, he ignores the shocked looks.

“Right here.” Bruce says. Tim whirls around to find Bruce in fucking pjs and wet hair. He has the nerve to look confused and concerned.

“Tim, what happe-!” Tim’s knuckles hurt and he bets Bruce’s face hurts even more. He’ll have to thank Lady Shiva.

“Master Timothy!” Alfred sounds horrified but Tim ignores him and the other numerous shouts.

Bruce Wayne also known as Batman looks up at Tim from where he’s on the floor. Tim doesn’t give a shit as he starts snarling like a rabid dog and a pissed of cat. At least he’s getting his point across. He ignores the stares.

“How fucking dare you?! You ignored a call of help and here you are sitting in your pjs relaxing! I know for a fact you didn’t check to see if the Avengers even needed help!”

Bruce is on his feet trying to reason; “Nick Fury was trying to joi-“

“Nick Fury’s dead!” The responding shout leaves an echoing silence in the cave before Bruce is pulling on Batman mode.

“Tim tell me what you kno-“

“Shut up, Bruce.” Tim says coldly. He pulls a glare and swirls around walking to the computer to plug his, some how, working gauntlet into it. He brings up the video feed but doesn’t play it so he can explain what’s happening.

“Since this asshole ignored a call for help from the Avengers the universe is in danger.” Tim ignores the shocked looks and questions and simply continues, “Thanos has gotten something called infinity stones, with a click of his fingers he’s wiped out half the lives on this world.” Pure silence.

“What are the Avengers doing about it?” Tim glowers at Bruce with such hatred that the others flinch.

”What are the Justice League doing about it?” Tim quizzes and watches as a muscle in Bruce’s jaw twitches. He doesn’t care.

“Most of them are dead, killed or turned to ash,” and Tim’s voice is cracking a little and Dick’s rushing forward and Tim just collapses. Simply leans into a warm chest as Bruce plays the video. He hears the gasps, the shocked eyes on Tim’s and he’s getting up dammit. He’s lasted this long he can last a little longer.

“We need every heroes help.” Tim commands looking right at Bruce, he gives a nod and Tim knows he’s burying himself in guilt and Tim can’t help but think, good, he deserves it.

“No one fifteen or below.” Tim’s voice has an edge to it and Bruce knows Tim will do something drastic if he doesn’t follow. So he does.

“Drake-!” Tim turns to Damian.

“No. I had to watch a boy two years older than you with twice as much training turn to ash, you are not going.” Tim’s lying through his teeth but he’ll be damned if he looses someone so young again, he won’t be able to handle it.

For once the brat listens and Tim puts the communicator to his mouth, time to get the team together, the whole team.


	2. Tim can cook..?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Every Wednesday Tim goes to the kitchen to cook, every Wednesday tim nearly gets killed during protrol. The family decides to figure out why....

Alfred’s leaning against the brown doorway as he watches one of his many grandchildren. He’s bustling around the kitchen with his black hair tied into a messy short ponytail. Alfred doesn’t mind master Tim’s choice, it makes him look younger.

It’s Wednesday again, the day the young sir goes around the kitchen making different foods, enough for two, and a couple of hours later he’d disappear. Alfred doesn’t ask, it’s not his place. But at times it’s difficult, sometimes the young mans shoulders will shake and his hands tremble. At times the utensils will drop and the raven haired boy will have to lean against the counter. Alfred manages to stop himself, somehow.

The others, well, they simply are too curious.

—————

Jason is sitting at the kitchen table feeling angsty, so he’s stuffing his face with French toast. Another fight with Bruce, another argument, just another day. Well until the replacement showed up.

Jason slowly takes bites of his toast as he watches the replacement take out self raising flour, cream and lemonade. Watching as the replacement mixed and stirred and knead Jason figured he was making scones.

Grumbling as he finished the last of his toast he gets up to put his dish away, no need to make Alfred do it. Before stepping past the doorway Jason freezes, Tim’s leaning against the counter while trembling like a leaf. Ever so slowly the shaking stops and Tim, quite pale, is putting the tray in the oven.

Finally deciding to wash the dish Jason walks into the kitchen.

“I didn’t know you could cook, replacement,” Tim looks up that and sort of half shrugs. He looks exhausted but kinda happy about making the scones so Jason doesn’t comment.

“It’s for an old friend.” He finally says and his eyes are watery but he looks.... Jason couldn’t place it. Jason has heard how curiosity killed the cat, but he can’t help it. He’s simply curious.

—————

Dick’s sitting on the bench and he’s just waiting for Alfred to use his freaky powers to tell him off but Dick’s to busy watching Tim. Timmy who is happily humming to himself as he’s mixing what looks like cake mix in a bowl. Dick didn’t know Tim could cook.

Tim’s pouring the mixture into a shaped baking tin when Dick speaks up;

“Timmy what are you making?” He quizzes as he hops off the bench, he bets Alfred is just sneaking around the corner, watching and waiting.

“A banana cake.” Tim hums as he starts cleaning up the utensils he’s used. Before the spoon or bowl can be rinsed Dick snatched them up and starts licking at them. Mmm it’s good, great actually.

“Who’s it for?” He’s asks because he’s never seen Tim bake before so it must be for someone special. Dick wonders if he could have some.

“An old friend.” Tim says, and Dick frowns. He says that sadly, like he’s waiting for something to happen, something bad.

“Master Dick, I do believe you know you’ll have to clean this mess up, yes?” Dick yells as he spins around. Efficiently dropping the batter covered spoon on the floor, it joins the bowl he hadn’t realised he’d knocked over.

Tim snickers and Dick pouts as he starts cleaning the mess up. He wonders who the friend is.

—————

Bruce is sore and tired, he blames it on that when a clatter from the kitchen surprises, not scares, him. Sluggishly blinking Bruce heaves himself to his aching feet and walks to the kitchen.

Calling out; “are you okay Alfred?” Bruce frowns when he gets to the kitchen. It’s not Alfred, it’s Tim. Tim who is curled in a fatal position around shattered glass and milk soaking into black pants.

Bruce is bending down and heaving his son up instantly. Wrapping an arm around his back and under his legs Bruce easily lifts his son into his arms as he wrangles him so he’s sitting on the counter. Heart hurting for his child, Bruce tries to understand what’s wrong.

He never finds out, all he gets is;  
“I’m worried about an old friend,”

And that’s the end of it.

—————

Damian’s following Drake. The fool is getting everyone worried and it’s simply annoying. Every Wednesday the moron goes to the kitchen to cook or bake and a hour later he leaves and comes back very late. Every Wednesday he nearly gets himself killed during patrol and it’s not like Drake at all. It’s annoying.

Crouching in a bush Damian waits for the idiot to leave. Tim didn’t go to the kitchen today, his routine is different and Damian is determined to find out why.

“Jason! Stop pushing me!”

“Well then goldy maybe stop hogging all the space! This bush isn’t exactly the biggest!”

“Yo-“

Before Damian can tell them to shut up or they’ll give their position away a voice cuts him off.

“Boys that’ll be enough,” it was father. What was father doing here?

“Bruce I can explain!”

“No, if you’re trying to find out what’s going on with Tim at least be quiet.” Damian’s smirk matches his fathers.

——————

Tim pulls his car up at a familiar place. Heart in his stomach Tim’s trying to steady himself before walking in. The old folks home.

By now it’s like a routine engraved in stone, Tim knows the place by heart. The people, the patients and the workers. Smiling weakly at the woman at the work bench Tim tries to smile without being sick.

Ms. Mac is dying. No medication is helping her and all Tim wants to do is crawl into a hole and die. The only adult that ever cared for Tim as a child is leaving and there’s nothing Tim can do about it. He’s tried, he’s tried so hard and nothing is working and nothings ever going to work. Ms. Mac is leaving and she will never be coming back.

Brushing his knuckles against the wooden door Tim tries his best to keep breathing as he heard the weak yet warm ‘come in.’  
Swallowing thickly Tim opens the door to reveal the old and sickly woman. Withholding a winch because Tim just knows she doesn’t have much time left on this earth, he greets her with a kiss on the cheek. Ms. Mac is 93 years old today.

“Oh Timmy it’s so good to see you.” The elder says in a whispery voice. Her eyes aren’t reaching his face and her own eyes look so dull. Swallowing down a sob Tim takes the wrinkled hand and gently kisses it in response.

“Oh I remember when you were a whee child.....” Tim patiently waits for the woman to finish knowing she easily forgets someone’s with her. It hurts but there’s nothing to be done about it.

“Timmy don’t cry when I die.” Tim can’t hold back the sob that escapees his burning throat and he squeezes his eyes as the tears come because she doesn’t need this. She’s the one in pain not Tim. So why does he wish he was dying instead?

“Oh my boy why are you sad?!” Tim laughs wetly at that and gently tells her that it’s nothing.

With hands that won’t stop shaking Ms. Mac picks up a frame next to her bed that she slowly passes to Tim. Tim thanks her as he gently rests it on his lap, he’ll look at it later.

They sit there in silence as the woman slowly passes on, the only sound is a soft sobbing. Tim leans forward and brushes the grey hair away from the face of the beautiful woman. Inside and out.

—————

Dick’s hand is clamped over his mouth as he watches the scene. He remembers the kind lady who frequently called when Tim didn’t come home on time, he was training to become Robin then.

He remembers when Tim broke his leg as Robin. Dick had taken him back to his home and the woman’s had swung the door so fast he’d thought he had gotten hit by it. She had took one look at Tim before she rushed them into the kitchen scolding both of them all the while making hot chocolate. Tim had apologised with a face red of embarrassment before he’d kissed her on the cheek. Dick thought it was quite cute.

Now his baby brother is curled in on himself as he clutches the picture in pale shaking hands. His gaze never left the woman’s face since she’s passed and like a brick that’s been thrown into his face Dick realises what Tim was waiting for. He was waiting for the unstoppable to happen to the one person that he treasured so much.

Trying not to outright sob Dick lets Jason drag him away to seat him down before he goes to one of the workers. This is why he cooked on Wednesday’s.

—————

Jason guesses Wednesday’s are cursed, so many bad things have happened on these days. It seems to mainly happen to Tim though. Feeling bad for his brother won’t help him now so he tries to stop rewinding the scene of baby bird outright sobbing out of his head as he drags Dick away.

When they had been in the car following Tim they had all been messing around. Saying shit about how Tim’s secretly a chef that poisons people, he’s never regretted anything so much before.

Feeling his bicep being squeezed Jason quickly scans around for a seat. Easily finding one he sets Dick down and walks off to find a worker or something.

He doesn’t know who the women was but it’s clear to see she was very important to Tim. Grandmother maybe? Shaking his head Jason hurried to find a staff member. Praying that Bruce and baby bat know what they’re doing.

—————

Bruce is feeling awkward and weird and he feels himself closing off but he can’t let that happen. His second youngest son has lost and done to much for Bruce to simply give him the cold soldier. Feeling like an intruder as he walks into the room Bruce gently kneels in front of his son.

“Tim, chum, can you talk to me?” He watches as the black haired child shakes his head roughly and Bruce swallows. Tim’s lost so much, too much, this must’ve been the last straw.

Directing his eyes away from his sons face (it hurts, he shouldn’t have to go through this) he looks at his hands. Tim’s hands are shaking and they’re going slack, warily Bruce pries the picture out of Tim’s hand and places it gently on the bench beside them.

“Father, I’ll stay with Drake. Help Todd, he obviously needs it.”

Bruce turns to his youngest. His face is a little paler than usual, he’s never seen someone outright cry before, and he’s staring at Ms. Mac.

With a pat to Tim’s knee Bruce leaves the room quietly. Trying not to think of how much it’d hurt if he lost Alfred. It doesn’t work.

—————

Damian can’t help but study the body. Limbs lay limp and pale and cheeks look hollow. The eyelids are closed and despite the awkward slumped form the elderly looks rather peaceful. Like she’s sleeping. Damian knows she’s not sleeping.

Not really knowing what to do as sobs quiet down Damian gently picks the woman’s arms up so they’re resting on her chest. He picks a flower from the vase and places it behind the woman’s ear in respect.

Damian may have not known her but Drake respected her enough to show a kind of weakness that most people never see. If that’s enough for his predecessor then it’s enough for him.

As he’s about to quietly leave the room his sleeve is pulled. Drake looking at his lap now and he’s speaking so quietly Damian almost misses it.

“Thank you Dami, you’ve come so far.” Swallowing thickly he refuses to acknowledge the water in his eyes as Tim pulls him into a hug. To comfort who Damian doesn’t know, maybe it’s a bit of both.

As the brothers hug a picture of two Drakes smile at them while a certain Ms. Mac hold a younger Tim. Proud as they’ll ever be.


	3. The Wayne family twinsies!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Cass are popularly called the Wayne twinsies by the press.

  
————

Cass is buried in Jason’s oversized jumper and wrapped in Dick’s scarf, she’s also ‘borrowed’ Tim’s fluffy socks. She munching on some marshmallows as she looks at the newspaper in front of her.

She can’t understand all the words but she picks out some names, like; Tim, Cassandra, heir, Wayne, brother and sister. The rest is just jumbled on the page and it’s making Cass frown.

The picture is of Cass in her gown at the gala last night with Tim. They’re both dancing in the picture with happy smiles on their faces. Why is that news worthy?

Humming to herself quietly Cass heads to the tv, maybe it’s on the news? Sitting on the plush couch Cass eagerly curls on it. It’s very comfortable.

Fishing for the remote on the bench in front of her Cassandra switches on the tv and is quite happy the news is already on. It takes a while to get through other news, like the villains latest schemes and the education, but soon after that Cass sees it.

“The Wayne Twinsies were spotted happily dancing last night at their fathers gala. The charity going to the sick children’s hospital and young Timothy Wayne and Cassandra Wayne seemed happy to support it.”

Cass blinks, what are twinsies?

————

After some searching Cass finally found a dictionary with the word twinsies in it. Twinsies means two people or things that are extremely similar, particularly in appearance. Cass didn’t know Tim and her looked similar. She doesn’t mind.

After doing more research, Alfred said twinsies is a play on word, it’s like twins. Cass had asked what that meant and her grandpa had said it’s two children born at the same time, he said that sometimes their bond with one another is very strong.

Cass knows Tim isn’t her blood brother but they can still be twins though, they have a very strong bond after all. When Tim comes back from his mission Cass will inform her twin of it.

————

Tim’s scrubbing at his face, relieved. The mission had lasted a week and it had, for once, gone without any trouble at all. Except when a man got a bit to close, Caroline happily kneed him where it hurts for that.

The others are still out on patrol so Tim tiredly greets Alfred with a half hug and a thanks for the hot cocoa, then heads up stairs.

As Tim’s putting the cup in the sink he spies a newspaper sitting on the table open to the Wayne gala a couple of nights ago. There’s a picture of him and Cass dancing with a caption saying; ‘the Wayne twinsies dancing at a gala!’

Tim sort of shrugs to himself as he goes to the lounge. Hearing the soft buzz of the tv Tim picks up the remote and switches it off. Before leaving the room Tim pulls the blanket tighter around Cass before leaving the room. He didn’t miss the;

“Welcome back twinsie.”


	4. Jj go away~

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dick takes robin away and Jj comes to play

Tims hands are shaking, shaking badly. Breathes aren’t coming and going as they should be and all Tim can remember is seeing Dick replacing him. His big brother giving his younger brother a role that was not his to take. Especially not Dicks to give.

He swallowed down the bile in his throat and winched when it felt like knives. Heh, Tim knows what that feels like, metaphorically and physically.

The tears start rushing and he pulls up his hoodie as he slides down his bedroom door. It never really was his, not really. Because Tim was a replacement and now he’s been replaced. Karma always seems to catch up to him.

Folding his arms over his knees Tim buries his head in them. Vaguely Tim hears JJ cackling, Tim doesn’t bother to stop his twisted words. They were true after all.

Forgettable! Jj whispers,

Alone! He cackles.

Replacement! He shrieks.

Who knew a detective could be a delusional? Jj queries

Tim shakes his head and vaguely Tim hears his mothers voice.

“Quit whining Timothy,” a statement. It always is, never a command. Tim blinks away the tears and wipes Jj out of his head. He’s a mere voice after all.

Besides Timothy has a mission.

Bring Bruce back home, before he cracks at the seams.

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok This is on my tumblr, I had a photo with it there, I just haven’t figure out to put it on here yet.... anyway hope you liked it!


	5. He couldn’t save her

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is sad, I found out it’s happened to my dog that’s been around since my birth, so.... I wrote an fic
> 
> Sorry

———————————————————  
Tim ran his fingers through golden fur, trying to soothe his pup, Charlie. She is such a good dog and it’s not fair. His heart is screaming, screaming, screaming and so is his head. He nearly snaps at the vet but he refrains from doing it. Charlie needs him.

He pets her belly, her favourite spot, and swallows as his throat burns. He doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut but they burn at the tears in hers. Why is life so unfair?

————

Tim’s tired. Tired and bloody. Everything hurts as he presses into the cold grimy wall. There’s no internal bleeding or any broken bones, just bruises. Bruises everywhere, he most probably looks like a plum.

He can’t help but grumble as he sinks to the floor. How much trouble would he get in if he just slept here? Depends on who finds him he guesses.

A yawn escapes split lips as he gets to his feet. He’s had his break and now he’s got a job to do, reports. Joy.

Clang!

Like an extension of his arm his bo staff is out. The alley way is dark but light enough for a shadow to be seen, there is none. Whoever or whatever it is must be hiding behind the dumpster. There’s no fire escapes to be hidden in so it’s the only logical choice. Unless it’s a ghost. If it is a ghost Tim can take them. He’s pretty sure. Maybe.

Stalking forward in silence red robin can only hear silence. Silence then a whimper, a whimper that doesn’t sound human and then theres a bark. It’s a dog then.

Red whips the staff away as he rounds the corner of the trash bin. Rotten blankets cover a small wiggling figure, it’s only one pup then.

Feeling a little worried Red Robin becomes Tim Drake as he kneels in front of the puppy that’s hidden by blankets. Raising a gloved hand Tim’s about to pull the cloth off of the pup when a wet nose sticks out. Stilling so he doesn’t scare the poor thing Tim watches in amusement as it sniffs at him before licking him?

Smiling slightly he pulls the rotten and torn cloth off of the now revealed golden retriever. The puppy stares at him with blue eyes before slowly walking forwards. Ever so slowly she, Tim can tell, circles around him, sniffing.

Tim yells as the pup launches at him, the small thing managing to knock him over, as it licks at his face. With a snort he gently pushes the pup away from his head as he sits up. Sitting cross legged apparently was the perfect place for a bed Tim muses as the pup curls up on his lap.

Maybe it wouldn’t be to bad to look after it for a while. Just till’ a proper owner arrives.

————

Tim is not amused. Okay maybe a little. Just a little. His cushions are now a pile of fluff with dog fur that resides on the floor. That is not the amusing bit. The amusing bit is the floppy ears just peaking over the rest of the couch.

“Charlie,” the ears twitch.

“Charlie, come here,” the ears disappear and he really doesn’t want to play the hiding game but then there’s a whine and a wet nose pressing into the red bit of his costume. A bit that maybe shouldn’t be red.

Tim hands are raking through golden fur as he faces the mess. He’s s sucker for puppy eyes.

Well he can ignore Dicks at least. Weakness justified.

————

Does he have too, Tim really really doesn’t want to. A doggy grin is on Charlie’s face and Tim knows what’s coming so he’s turning his head but of course it’s to late. It’s to late so Tim grabs the lead as he solemnly walks to the door.

A walk, a walk Tim’s not going to survive. Send help.

————

“Really Charlie?” Tim swears she snickers.

He scowls at the soaked puppy, she’s the one in the batch tub! So why is he the one looking like a drenched puppy? More like a drenched rat.

Tim rolls his eyes as the dog prances around him, ever so smug. What a lovely trait of hers. She happily prances out of the bathroom, nails clicking against the floor, as puddles form behind her.

Why does Tim feel like the pet?

————

Burning hot pain is replacing the normal feeling on his side. It hurts so, so much and Tim wonders if he’s screaming. The ringing in his ears makes it difficult to hear anything.

His hands are wet and he can’t understand why they are so red. Water isn’t red and Tim can’t figure out an answer.

His head is pounding as he lifts it from the hood of his car. He gasps at the tornado of pain and he falls back with a bang and it hurts even more. Shattered glass surround him as he squeezes his eyes shut wondering why he hears frantic barking.

Charlie?

He hears frantic shouts, he thinks its shouts at least. Large hands reach for him and his seatbelts off with a click and vaguely he sees two figures with a smudge of gold.

“Good girl,” it comes out hoarse with blood dribbling down his chin. He hears a bark and Tim smiles.

His dog just saved his life.

————

And he can’t save hers.

The needle pulls out and she stills. Tim counts in his head as his hand brushes through fluffy fur. It’s not a normal sleep as her legs don’t go moving, like she’s chasing a squirrel and it’s so surreal that Tim lets the tears slip.

5:13

Her breathing gets slower.

5:26

Whines become weaker.

5:49

Her tail stops moving.

5:58

Her breathing stops.

In a matter of five minutes and fifty eight seconds he was taken from her. He screams and cries and he’s falling into a bottomless pit he’ll never claw out of. He falls, falls, f  
                     a  
                 l  
            l  
                  s

He couldn’t save her.

 

 


	6. Pukeface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Batman new adventure crossover...? Eh.

He should’ve known everything was just to good. Normal breakfast, at least, as normal as tired vigilantes having breakfast can get. No one was arguing and everyone was calm. He really should’ve known.

Now he’s staring pukeface straight in the eye as the rest of his family struggle against their bonds. Everyone was here except the girls but they were in Hong-Kong. Not much they can do.

Tim shifted his weight, his old batarang was still in his pocket, he’s got a little leverage at least. Two thugs surrounded them, people who wouldn’t last a day without their big bad boss, with the normal weapons. Guns, bats, crowbars etc, etc.

“So little Timmy Drake snuck his ways to the tops huh?” Twoface grumbled as he twirled his coin, face as hideous as always.

“You do realise I’m a _Drake_ , right?” Tim quizzes because yes he is a little shit at times. And really, twoface should know this.

**_Slap!_ **

Biting his lip to keep a sound escaping he grimaces, some things never change. He hears the shout of Brucie to leave his precious son alone. Great, just great.

“Precious? Hmm.” Tim didn’t like were this was going.

Twoface walks over to Bruce with heavy steps, both of them know what’s coming. After all having a father with two names was never a good thing. Especially if one of these personas is a thug while the other is a man ‘adored’ by the higher ups.

Tim hates his life.

“ _Precious_?!-“ he yanks his tie, “this boy has his fathers blood in his veins! He’ll grow up to be a two face bastard just like his father!” He drops the man, who’s glaring like Batman and a bit of Bruce Wayne the father, and whirls to face Tim again.

Tim might regret this. Maybe.

“Saying the man who literally has two faces, or is it pukeface now?” He hears Jason snort and Dicks chocked gasp. He just knows Bruce is begging him to be quiet.

 _ **Slap**_!

He opens his eyes as he moves his jaw, Damian stares back with with awe? The slap must’ve been harder than he thought.

He whirls around to face the villain, blowing a strand of hair away from his face. As the man mutters angrily Tim starts pulling at the rope. The little knife in his watch helps.

“It seems that mother-“ his jaw tightens, “of yours never taught you any manners. Since ‘Steven Drake’ or is it ‘Jack Drake’ now?” Tim glare is fierce. “Doesn’t matter does it? He still has a boomerang stuck in his chest,” Tim snarls. He can feel the temperature in the room drop as he catches the cut rope.

Twoface turns around humming to himself in that gravelly voice, “quite a disappointment I couldn’t do it myself, it would’ve been so much fun.” Tim’s chest is heaving and all he wants to do is _break_ a limb or two.

He walks away. A thug calls out, “what should we do with him boss?” Déjà vu much.

The black and white villain take out his coin.

 

He throws it.

 

Catches it.

 

Flips it.

 

Everyone is quiet.

 

 

“Kill him.”

 

Tim drops the ropes and pounces. Only two thugs, the same ones Tim distracted with donuts all those years ago. Easy.

Both charge with a bat and crowbar held high, Tim ducks and suddenly the work is done for him. One has a broken nose, the other is going to have a nice scar. Maybe he can finally be cool. He snorts.

Twoface is long gone so he watches in annoyance as the GCPD finally arrive. Dammit.

He’ll get him next time, he will.

 


	7. Not the truth, not a lie

The others had made a game out of it, a game to figure out why Timothy Drake drinks coffee. It would be funny if the reason behind his caffeine intake wasn’t so....serious- no, paranoid.

And they call themselves the protégés of the greatest detective. Yeah right.

To be fair Jason and Damian might not even know what happened, what happened to.... But Tim wouldn’t put it past Talia to fill Damian up with all knowledge, even if it isn’t exactly necessary. And Jason, well, he tried to kill him, he had to figure some things from Tim’s past. Maybe he figured it out, maybe he didn’t. But he’s a bat, he has sources.

Dick and Bruce? They just can’t see it. If they did they would of surely said something by now. Well, maybe not Bruce but Dick? Definitely.

Alfred knows, of course he does. He’s Alfred. The man who pegs the bat down every now and then. That’s why he sedates the coffee, doesn’t ask why it’s always coffee or other beverages instead of that, that one.

Tim takes the milk warm coffee from his grandfather with a smile. At least Alfred doesn’t think of this as a game.

Too bad the others do.

————

“Drake.” Drumroll please! The first contestant is small and deadly and will slice your head off! It’s the son of Batman, The Damian Wayne! Applause for the little demon!

Tim hums dutifully, staring at his laptop screen and wishing for sleep. At this rate he’ll never fill his sleep debt, will he ever? Eh, most probably not. Too muck to do after all.

“Caffeine a day leads to insomnia, nervousness, restlessness, irritability, an upset stomach, a fast heartbeat and even muscle tremors. Why, Drake, do you drink it?” Green eyes narrow at him and Tim can’t help but grin. Count on the demon to throw subtle over a skyscraper.

Shifting on the leather couch Tim tightens the warm blanket around him. Purposely taking a long sip of his coffee, just to see the brat squirm in annoyance.

“Hmm,” he taps a finger to his chin, biting a cheek to hold back a grin, “it can’t be! Can it?”

“Can’t be what, Drake?” The mini Batman glares, a usual frown on his face that Dick usually mistakes for pouting.

“You are worried about me!” Tim cackles as the boy stiffens, face hardening like a rock or drying clay. It’s amusing really.

“Don’t be absurd Drake!” The brat spits, face flaming like fire. Tim snickers at the flushing boy. Ok so the brat may be somewhat cute like this.

“Aww don’t worry little one-“ Damian spits and sputters, arms flailing around, “my body has gotten used to the intake of coffee.”

Tim sees the accomplishment brighten is Damian’s eyes, he feels a little bad about lying. Well he isn’t exactly, his body has gotten used to the caffeine intake but that’s not the reason why he drinks it.

“Very well Drake.” He struts out the room and Tim sighs. Lets the couch engulf him as the fun from that moment leaves him.

The next contestants are going to be harder to please.

————

“Red Robin.” Another drumroll please! The second contestant it tall and deadly! A man who loves books and writes poetry like a second language, a man who makes people pee in their shorts! Please welcome the Red Hood!

“Hood.” Red nods at the figure emerging from the shadows, something pelts at the ready.

He says nothing else and Red accepts the beverage passed to him, sweet sweet coffee. Who knew the red hood had a heart?

Together they sit at the edge of the building, sipping on their drinks in silence. It’s a surprisingly slow and, even more surprisingly, a quiet night. It’s quite nice.

There’s a shuffle at his side and red gazes at the man next to him. The man who once tried to kill him is now a brother, who would’ve thought? The big scary Red Hood has his hood under a arm while he gazes at the city before him. Nights like this make Gotham seem almost peaceful, beautiful. It never lasts long.

“Why do you drink this stuff?” Well he isn’t exactly subtle but he’s doing better than Damian. Hood holds up his paper cup with a frown, eyes flickering over to Reds own cup.

“Keeps me going.” Red answers. Again not a lie but not the full truth.

“Heh, don’t you have a sleep debt to full fill or something?” The man besides him snorts. Shifting so he’s sitting cross legged at a five story drop Red faces his masked brother.

“Yep bit caffeine is my only friend.” Red says, voice purposely solemn. Hood cackles and it echoes through building, a scream comes from an alley.

They snicker and snort because the Red Hood laughed and it made someone scream. They laugh until their sides hurt and until their coms buzz to life.

“Robbery at Fitch street, Hood and Red are closest.” Oracles voice crackles over the coms, scratchy and   
un-distinguishable.

“Copy that Oracle,” Reds on his feet instantly, gravel gun out and flying through the night before the Red Hood can even get in his feet.

The coffee lays empty on the abandoned rooftop. Tim wonders who’s next.

————

“Hey Timmy!” Wow! That’s the loudest drumroll yet! Please welcome the man who is secretly an octopus and has (apparently) the best butt in the world! The older brother everyone adores, Richard Grayson!

Tim whines, and yes it’s pitiful but he doesn’t want to be hugged to sea- to late.

“You’ve got to be more careful Timmy,” he sighs and just sags into his older brothers arms. It’s useless to resist and maybe, maybe he needs the comfort.

“Sorry...” he mumbles and the arms wrap around him more tightly, cutting off his air supply but he doesn’t care. He just closes his eyes and accepts the coffee cup pressed into his hands. It’s sedated, he knows but he doesn’t mind, he cant sleep anyway.

“Don’t apologise little brother,” Dicks voice is soothing, careful and shaky and he can feel tears landing in his hair. And it wasn’t that bad was it? He only got shot three time and they fixed him up right? He’ll be fine.

He makes a sound in his throat and Dick laughs wetly. A shaky hand reaches for the coffee cup that Dick had knocked away when he hugged a little bit tighter.

“Why do you drink this? You need to sleep little brother.” He’s being scolded but he doesn’t mind. Focuses on the question as the sedate begins to work its magic. He’ll be snoring and drooling soon.

“Because you sedate it...” he’s aware of Dicks shocked eyes and he’s also aware it’s not the complete truth. Yes he does drink it because some days it makes him sleep but it’s not the real reason.

Tim’s eyes closes as he falls into a deep sleep.

One person left.

————

Tim shifts over in his bed as Cass sidles next to him. Wiry but deadly arms wrap around him and Tim hugs back as he pull the blanket back up. They don’t talk and Tim doesn’t smile.

Cass presses a kiss to his forehead as Tim fights back tears, his- his mother died today. It’s her anniversary and it makes Tim twitch as water pounds at his bedroom window.

He closes his eyes as he sees his mums ruby painted lips wrap around a glass. She swallows and her eyes roll back and her mouth foams.

She never got a chance.

Her skin rots and she’s too pale, too pale. Her body hits the floor with a doll thud and his father screams and screams into a endless abyss.

Timothy Jackson Drake drinks coffee because his mother does drinking water.

She never stood a chance.


	8. Timothy Addams Drake Wayne

“Red Robin!” Red blinks as he looks to the side. That wasn’t there before... He really didn’t want to deal with this. Why was his family like this?

Hood was most likely staring through his hood. Nightwing was wide eyed, gobsmacked and pale and Robin was stiff as a board, concealed eyes wide. All in defensive positions.

If you looked at Batman you could see he was stiff, arms shaking ever so slightly and he wasn’t actually Batman. He was dressed as a bat but right now he was Bruce Wayne, a worried father. Actually all of them weren’t their hero saving butt kicking selfs right now despite being in their ‘work suits.’

Tim guesses thats what happens when you were an inch from being impaled by a sword.

Tim blinks and touches his cheek. It come back bloody and Bruce is running to him, arms shaky and fear clear as day shining on his face. The others remain frozen in their positions.

He hears the giggles behind him and he quirks a smile, of course, he should’ve known.

“B I’m fine.” And B stops just in front of him and Tim can’t help but feel bad. Then again he hasn’t been tortured in _so long_ , he’ll have to thank Wednesday and Pugsley.

Red sighs as B ignores him, he grumbles and unclips his utility belts to pass to the giggling children behind him. They smile their creepy smiles and he pats their heads fondly before they run off. B stares at him, incredulously. The others do to as they stand normally.

Red rolls his eyes as he yanks the cowl off to become Tim Addams-Drake Wayne.

“Gomez our children got hold of your fencing gear.” Aunt Morticia hums as she walks towards them with a smile. Black dress shapes her pregnant stomach perfectly as she walks like a woman on a mission. She pats his shoulder with a cold palm as she glances at the others with interested eyes.

She hums at them and them she twirls to him as uncle Gomez skips over. Thing and Lurch lumber behind dragging uncle Fester by his ankles with a rusty bear catcher.

B glares and N blanches. Hood and Robin look disgustingly interested and Tim grins slightly. Their so called killing methods were so cute he had to stop himself from cooing at them. He still has to restrain himself from taking Damian’s poisonous tipped katana. Uncle Gomez would adore it and it would hurt him so beautifully. It’s simply a price of art really.

Uncle Fester screams and the others are on the move, well they were, until they realised he was screaming in pleasure.

This is going to be hard to explain.

“This is what you do for a living? My boy you’ve got it good! So dangerous so many chances,” uncle Gomez licks his lips, “to get hurt.”

He loops an arm affectionately over his shoulders as he arrives at Tim’s side. The others stare at Thing. Rude, don’t they know they shouldn’t stare?

Uncle Festers head lolls to him with a grin as Lurch grumbles something as he drops the chain at Tim’s feet.

“Ahh your mother would be so proud! We should wake her up!” Aunt Morticia nods in agreement eyes gleaming in excitement. His mother and aunt loves sharing torture tips. His uncles loves getting tortured by their little sister. They say Tim is a lot like his mother, and he is. He’s just a little warmer and so good at torture.

“Red Robin.” Tim blinks at B. Right he might want to explain this.

“Uh- Well. Sorry B. Umm this is uncle Gomez and Fester and Aunt Morticia. Wednesday and Pugsley are the kids and Lurch and Thing just went to play with them. Um grandmama is at home, yes?” He directs the last part at Aunt Morticia as uncle Fester is to busy upping his self torture and uncle Gomez is trying to yank the sword out of the wall. No, not by the handle.

“Of course, she is after all banned from Bludhaven and every other existing city.” She hums in awe as she twists a ring on her finger.

N blinks. He didn’t know that but it does make sense. Wait! Are these people Tim’s family?

“Aren’t you guys banned as well?” Tim quizzes because, yes, he remembers that. Apparently when the Addams visit Bludhaven it causes mass panic. Hench, the little situation right now.

Fire crackles from a crashed car as Fester heaves a laugh. “You should know boy! We told you the story after we woke you up from the dead! Don’t you know why your as pale as snow?”

Hood (and well- everyone) freezes and Tim closes his eyes because maybe if he can’t see them they can’t see him.

“Red,” it’s a gravely voice and Tim blinks at B, he forgot he was right in front of him.

“Err- N they didn’t mean any harm, really. They just, uh, like to travel every now and then.

N blinks at that and he slowly nods. “Ok, just try not to cause mass panic.”

Wednesday and Pugsley choose that specific moment to throw a batarang and a dagger at his stomach and neck.

Tim blinks as Bruce’s eyes widen behind the cowl, Hood staggers and N pales and faints.

“Umm-“ Tim reaches and yanks the weapons out of him and his skin, “Ow?”

“Fencing battle anyone?”

Uncle Gomez is so not helping right now...


	9. Clayface

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tim and Annie meet again!  
> (Sorry it’s so short!)

Red is currently covered head to toe with Clayfaces parts and _eww_. It’s gross and why can’t villains keep to themselves? It’s not that hard to get a job, seriously. All you need is enough cash to buy your way in.

It’s wet and sticky and he can feel it wiggling in his boots and gloves trying to get out because its like a persons limb that somehow is wiggling after death. But this is clayface, clayface who hasn’t showed his ugly and running face since Tim was robin.

That also means no one else knows exactly how to deal with this annoying clay that can move like water or be as hard and painful as a rock. No one knows how to deal with this stupid little thing that can shrink like a ant or be as giant as a whale and it’s pissing Red off.

It’s pissing him off because N is currently stuck to the roof of a very tall bank and Hood is to busy pissing himself laughing as the clay tickles him. And Robin- wait where is robin?

Red wrangles himself up to his feet looking around. The bank is completely covered in clay except for some parts. Clayface is in the middle, hand solidified into a mace.

Reds moving without a second thought, kicking at the clay trying to slow him down because Clay is swinging at a coughing blob and that coughing blob is Robin dammit.

His breathes are coming out strangled as he electrocutes himself and owfuck it hurts but he has to get the clay off of him now. The clay bubbles and pops and hisses as it flies off him and owfuck his body hurts a goddamn lot but he ignores the pain like a typical bat as he reaches inside his belt.

As soon as the freezing pellets are in his ruined gloves Red yells,

“Robin, back up!” And throws.

Red thanks the heavens above that his little brat of a brother actually listens and curses the hells below that clayface fucking spits the damn things out.

He manoeuvres his body to twist and the landing is a painful owfuck as he lands on his side. But he gets right on backup as Hood and N yell at them in worry to get to Robin. His cape is covered in Clay and the little brat is unconscious and goddamn this isn’t good.

“Red!”

Red wraps his limbs around his little brother and moves, grabble in hand and fired and in the air just as clayface barrels out the window.

Glass shatter and Red watches in utter annoyance as there’s a wet squelch from outside. He’s setting Robin down on a desk and throwing a utility belt up to Hoods reach.

And then he’s jumping out the window ignoring the shouts.

His grabble gun in hand saves him from the drop and lands him in an alleyway, right in front of a pile of clay that’s wiggling in agony?

Clayface got away then.

Red sighs and pinches at his cowl covered nose because clayface could be anything or anyone by now and no one would know.

He flicks at his com and can hear it crackle. Barbara isn’t going to be happy but hey, clayface and his stupid extendable body parts caused this.

“Clayface got away, tracking device might be attached still.”

Red sighs and yanks his cowl off, the clay in the whiteouts aren’t helping anyone right now so he puts the special glue on a spare domino mask and sticks it on.

The whiteouts click on and he’s revealed with all the options his cowl can give him excepts Reds own updates. He should update this for emergency’s.....

Squeal

Reds got his bo in his hand instantly, glaring at the medium size of lump of wiggling mess in front of him.

Behind him there’s three near silent thuds that tells Red he has backup, so he creeps forward.

He runs when a shaky hand claws at the clay and that’s a hand of a little girls! He runs but stops at the pale face that pops out, a small girl with black hair and a pink hair band has Tim gaping.

Annie

And like some messed up déjà vu Annie looks at him, Annie who looks about nine, and then she’s running at him and Red can hear the safety of a gun click off as the little girl stumbles right on into him.

“He’s going to come after me, he’s going to come after me robin! Please help, you did it before! Please help he’s angry,” it comes out in sobs and Red is still to the bone because what.

And then he’s moving, wrapping Annie in his cape as pale hands clutch at him because he is not going to fail her this time. He can’t. He won’t.


	10. Nothing but war

Tim’s breathing to fast. Way to fast and his cheek and arms and legs are stinging painfully. Bruises are going to appear soon but right now that doesn’t matter. He swallows in a breath as a shadow glides across the wall in front of him.

Dark and daring as the man he’s targeting. Batgirl and Hood are down, beaten brutally and no one has seen or heard of Cassandra since the mission was assigned.

Tim swallows thickly. His mask is gone but he’s so high up he knows no one will see him. Oracle will swipe the cameras, if he’s victorious or if he losses the battle.

_Fwick_!

Tim freezes. Gloved hands grip at the stone wall that’s slightly crumbled. He’s been spotted. He takes a deep breath, heart frantically beating as he glances up.

He spots a domino mask. He grins. Cassandra and Robin stare back at him, determination in their faces and hearts. Tim and Damian make a truce, this is war and they cannot afford to be enemies.

No distractions.

On three, Cass signs. Tim looks at his last price of amo, it’s not much but at the right spot it could save him.

One - he takes a breath

Two - he aims

Three - they fire

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
“Ow! Who aimed for my butt?!”

Tim smirks, standing up. Nightwing stands before him, pouting and hand over his bottom protectively.

Damian snarls, throwing down his rubber bands in anger. “Next time Drake, I will beat you!” He stomps of and kicks Hood in the shin who is howling in laughter.

“Timmy! How could you gang up against me? We’re brothers!” He whines and shouts as Cass takes her shot, right between the eyes.

She leaps down gracefully and throws an arm around Tim’s shoulders. The both smirk at the pouting hero.

“All is fair in love and war Nightwing.”


	11. What’s lost was found

Tim doesn’t really know how to breathe. His fingers are clenching around the edges of his silver laptop and he vaguely wonders how the plastic hasn’t cracked under his fingers.

He sucks in a harsh breath, like his throat is burning and no matter how hard he tries he still can’t breathe and it’s loud, too loud in his quiet apartment.

Eyes burn and he wonders if he’s blinked at all. Maybe, most probably not but either way he can’t bring himself to tear his eyes away.

He’s seeing and he wants to believe, oh it’s a horrible thing, wanting to believe, have hope he hasn’t felt in a long time consume him in a warm embrace. But...

But Tim wants to squash the hope because if he told anyone, asked anyone for help he would be called crazy, a delusional and he doesn’t think he could handle that. Not again.

Tim tries to stamp it out, blow out the light, he really does but the flame has grown too big, too bright and comforting so Tim makes a decision. People will think, tell Tim, yell at him that it was a horrible decision but he doesn’t care. If this is true, it will be worth it.

His fingers move and when he tracks a location his heart jumps into his throat, his skin feels hot and cold because this is real. He smile and a smile couldn’t of felt so right.

He closes the laptop, jumps to his feet, throws on his suit and flew into the night. The wind is hot and sticky and Tim, no, Red Robin breathes in deeply, moving on autopilot.

Red remembers visiting Dana. How they laughed and joked together in the hospital, how she scolded him for his nightly activities and how how Tim held her when she screamed and cried and struggled. Tim cried those days as well.

One day, he remembers, was different. How he walked in, how he gazes as Dana who was staring blankly at the wall, she was rocking. Back and forth, back and forth and then her blank gaze snapped to him and his insides sunk and he prepared for the screaming.

Instead she uttered six simple words that had Tim’s stomach flipping. Her gaze had never been so clear. Then the hospital crumbled and people died and Tim cried. Bruce, Dick and Alfred, they thought it was for one. Tim cried for two.

For two years Tim hasn’t said a word. Not when Bruce died, not when Robin was taken from him, not when he lost a spleen and not when he bought Bruce back. They didn’t want him in the family so Tim won’t go unloading his problems on them.

Red sighs and shakes his head, he need to focus.

—

It’s hard to securely cling onto the building with all the moss and broken glass but not impossible. Taking a breathe, Red wiggles his foot to get better leverage. Gut tightening he clips the end of the grabble to his belt, gives a tug for reassurance and then fiddles with the device he needs.

It takes a second for the device to latch securely onto brick and another second to tune it. Soon enough voices flow through.

“She’s getting fistey.” The voice is high and annoyed, a male.

There’s a dismissive snort and a huff. “All of them act like that when it’s play date time. You know that, Josh.” Red frowns, double checks that the communicator is recording. Play date? All of them?

There’s a whiny grumble, Red twitches at the spoiled child like sound. “We’ve had her the longest though! Nearly two years!”

The other man sighs. “And the only reason there’s no investigation is because people think she’s dead. Dana Drake died when the hospital crumbled-“ Red can feel the anger cooling at the bottom of his stomach, “She’s not stupid, she knows if a dead woman is seen walking around people will investigate. We’ll be arrested.”

It’s silent for a minute, both men thinking as Red attempts to reign in his anger, fingers itching for his staff.

Bang!

Red doesn’t startle, instead he hunches in as Josh squeals like a pig. “Oh for the love of-! Hurry up and get her in the truck! She’ll attract the bats!”

For the next couple of minutes all Red can make out is feet slapping against pavement and yells. Then there’s a crunch of grass and glass and Red Robin lurches. Dana, it’s Dana!

Dana is the same, a little thinner and shorter hair but there is no doubt that this is Dana. His stepmom.

Red Robin barley refrains from pouncing, instead he uses all his self will to hide in the shadows as one of the men slips his disgusting arm around her waist. Like a lover. Red wonders is Diana king his arm for life is too harsh.

The man leans down, red hair getting in brown eyes, to whisper to Dana. “Try anything sweetheart and little Tommy is dead.” Nope, Red decodes, two arms would be much more satisfying.

The man leans to his full height, around 6”3, grumbles to himself before hollering over his shoulder. “Josh, hurry up mate! Me and Diana have to see the kids!” Red scowls, they act so normal.

A shorter man runs out, 5”6, rounder in the stomachs with blonde hair and green eyes. “Coming, Toby!” Josh hogs up to them, then past them to the truck under a tree.

Toby chuckles, arms tightening around a grimacing Dana and Red really wants to break his nose. Instead he memorises the number plate and snaps a photo of them getting in the truck. The truck drives and Red races after it, hidden in the shadows of the night.

The wind is hot and harsh and Gotham’s natural fog isn’t helping matters. All Tim wants to do is move and beat down but he refrains. For Danna and his little brother. Tommy...

A shiver runs down his spine and Red jolts in surprise. He can’t help but feel helpless in this situation. Growling he clenches his teeth and snaps his eyes open, this is the power those freaks relish in. He won’t give them the satisfaction.

Five minutes later the truck chuffs to a stop, wheels cracking the dry mud. Red frowns, they’ve stopped at a normal street. A brick house, the roof needing a new paint job and chalk lying next to some squiggles on the driveway.

Next to that is another, a bat, not the Batman or the bat signal but a bat with little birds around it. Reds heart clenches, it was a cry for help.

Red sucks in a painful gasp, barley being able to breathe. He snaps out of it when the trucks doors slam open, Dana stumbling out and sprinting to the house. Toby’s eye twitches.

Dana bangs on the door, close to tears and Red watches as lights close to the house flicker on. People are waking up.

The door opens and a teenager greets her with a disappointed smile before he looks up, scowling at the sight of the men. He steps aside for Dana and she smiles before a shriek Pericles the air as she’s dragged into a chest. Toby’s smile has frozen in place, more lights flicker on.

“Ah, Jackson!” It’s a barley cheerful greeting, for her through clenched teeth and the teen cringes. “Your sibling didn’t cause you much trouble did they?”

Josh sidles up, twitching. “Or mine I hope?” It’s a breathy whisper that Jackson obviously didn’t catch at his pale faces confused look. Toby growls.

“Answer your uncle boy!” It echoes in the silent street and some curtains are pulled back. Josh looks close to fainting and the Jackson is trembling. Red crouches, fingers around the familiar feeling of his cool staff.

“Oi!” Dana cuts in, frail and protective. “Leave him alone!” A couple of curtains close, people reaching for their phones. Toby growls, his arm raises and the force is his slap sends Dana crashing into a potted plant with a cry.

“Mummah?” It’s a breathy little whisper but everyone’s head snap to the small boy with raven locks and blue eyes. Toby smirks.

“Tommy no!” Jackson shouts, fear leaking out like a river as silver catches in the shine of the moonlight and Red Robin moves.

Bang!

A sickening crack echoes in the air as skull collided with pavement, Red Robin growling as bone breaks beneath a gloved hand. A whimper escapes Toby’s bleeding lips as Red lifts his head up, smashing it into the concrete.

“T-Toby?” Masked eyes connect with wide green. Slowly Red stands up and everything is silent except for the approaching alarms as josh back peddles in a frenzy. “Stay away you freak!”

Red stops and so does Josh. A dark smile curls on his lips and a pathetic whimper reaches his ears. “So I’m the freak, huh? If I remember correctly I’m not the one kidnaping pregnant women to feel in control.” Red continues walking slowly and Josh shrieks, stumbles back.

“Are you that pathetic? Listening to that man so eagerly, like a slave? For what? Control?” Josh whimpers and Red gazes at the police cars parking up front.

Red chuckles. “Cause’ it seems to me that all you are is being used. Controlled.” Josh stills, face darkening and Red internally grins. Gotcha.

“That’s not true!” He spits out, not seeing the advancing cops. “I helped kidnap those women! Me and Toby are a team and we’ll continue doing whatever we please!”

“Is that so?” Josh shrieks as handcuffs clamp tightly around his wrists. Gordon nods at him and Red nods back as the GCPD gets to work.

Suddenly arms wrap around his stomach and Red spins around, nearly chokes on hair but the frail person merely adjusts themselves.

“Timmy..” it’s a broken whisper cracked with sobs and Reds breathing hitches, his eyes widen and tears leak at the edges. He doesn’t say anything, makes it look like a hero comforting a victims but in reality it’s so much more.

They stay like that, longer that they should but no one utters a word. There’s crying and sobbing and gentle hands cupping wet and red cheeks. Shushing and humming from tired mothers, broken laughter from fathers as Dana pulls back, kneeling to hug a little Tommy.

Red steps back as any hero would, distancing himself when he doesn’t want to. Dana gazes up at him, Tommy’s arms tight around her neck. Tommy sniffles and wiggles around, blue eyes widening at Red.

“Barba!” He squeals and Red stares in wide eyed shock as Dana nods, giggling as she shushes the squirming toddler.

“I know, I know that’s big brother but it’s a secret! Remember?” She brings a shushing finger to Tommy’s lips, laughing as he wiggles around to stare at Red.

Laughing in disbelief Red takes a step back, grabble in hand as he gazes at the scene. He fires the grabble with a soaring spirit, today he can actually believe he’s done good. Today he really has.

—

He basically collapses into his apartment, calculations and improvements impossible to distinguish in his head. He’s going to have to clean up and baby proof the apartment, fix up the guest rooms and he’ll have to go shopping for groceries.

So that’s what Tim does. He gets up sluggishly, turns on the tv for background noise and gets to work. He chucks dirty clothes in the waist bin, picks up old takeout and rubbish and he’s in the kitchen when a breaking news reaches his ears.

Tim stops, hand emerged in soapy water, as he glances at the television. The news anchor is a blonde woman, painted red lips pulled up into a genuine smile as a live of tonight plays next to her.

“Tonight at one in the morning the police were contacted for a domestic violence case that turned into something much bigger.” The photos of Toby and Josh pop up. “Toby McDonald and Joshua Reese have been holding mothers captive, keeping their children away to keep them in order.” The anchor frowns before pulling on a smile, she’s a mother Tim realises. “Jace, any news?”

Jace is a dirty blonde with a dash of freckles, she dressed up in a sun dress with a soft smile. “I know a little Tara. As you can see behind me we have the victims reuniting,” she gestures behind with a grin, “lets see of someone wants to tell the story of this heartwarming tale.”

Tim quirks a smile, going back to washing the dishes. He’s aware the bats will be informed, he’s aware he’ll be scolded like a child but, frankly, he doesn’t care. He’s got his family back.


	12. Chapter 12

They’re arguing over the radio station. It’s familiar, it’s good and it’s just like the days were Tim was Robin and Dick was Nightwing and it was _nice_.

They’re not arguing over who’s dead or who’s not, not about Batman or Robin and they’re not just spitting heated words out at each other in _frustration_.

Instead, they’re coming back from WE, Dick had kidnaped him so Tim took driving privileges.

Dick is as stretched out as he can, hands folded behind his head and legs kicked up on the dashboard of his rusty car. Tim is flicking through the channels and Dick jolts his hands away with his foot just to annoy him.

Also, Tim wants to tap into the police station but Dick isn’t haven’t it. He kidnaped Tim so they could hang out, not work, so Dick tells him _over my dead body._

Tim’s a clever little shit, the cleverest, in Dick’s personal opinion, but he scored the lowest in the bats defensive driving course. The bats are high above average and they’re driving home, _relaxed_ and _calm_ and who would’ve thought they’d need it?

A kink of his mouth and Dick watches him laugh, the tire spinning out over a patch of black ice hidden by swampy leaves.

The radio keeps playing as Dick blinks awake with a hoarse groan, blood in his eyes and glass in his lap.

And Tim says nothing.


	13. I don’t need help, maybe I wanted it

Tim sighed, muscles tight as he stepped up to the Zeta tube. Bruce nodded at him, ever so slightly and Tim sighed again.

He didn’t want to do this, didn’t want to see the people who thought he was crazy, who thought he needed help. He didn’t, he didn’t and now he was back with the person who they thought dead.

Tim didn’t want to see Dick, didn’t want to see any of them. He didn’t need the pitying gazes, the slight frowns and second glances. He didn’t need Black Canary to come up with a hand on his shoulder, kind eyes and whispered words promising help. He didn’t need help. He was right.

He wasn’t ready to see the team that strayed away from him, didn’t want Conner’s frown or M’gann’s hugs or Kaldur’s and Artemis’ understanding expressions. He didn’t want to see Bart, Jamie, Gar, Cassie or Roy the clone and Roy the real.

It hurt to see them, it hurt Tim knowing they thought he needed help. That he had lost it. He hadn’t and he feels sick. They didn’t believe him but it didn’t matter anymore. Bruce was alive, Bruce was here and that’s all that matters.

As the scanner studied him Tim tried not to think about their reaction, tried not to think about how Damian was Robin now, how Dick was Batman and how Jason was on good-ish terms with them all. Tim didn’t fit in, he was a fill in. They only kept him around when they needed him.

A blinding light and then the female monotone voice rang out and Tim, no, Red could feel the eyes on him. He doesn’t care, he turned around, pulled up the screens to let Bruce through. Because two Batman’s isn’t going to do the computer any good and no one in the league was very good at fixing machines. Red didn’t feel like fixing it either.

“Tim?” And that was Bart, eyes wide as he was suddenly next to Tim and Tim felt his chest ache but he nodded. Bart grinned, white teeth bright and blinding and he wrapped his arms tight and Tim stiffened, couldn’t help it even if he wanted to.

Bart let go instantly, a frown etched on his face as Batman strode forward, gaze disbelieving as the chatter quietened as they stared. It was silent as Tim pressed enter on the screen.

The machine swirled, a blinding white light and then Bruce was stepping through, dressed as Batman and scattered gasps were heard. Red stepped back, steps silent as he hid in the shadows, watching.

The team was stiff, eyes wide and some mouths open and slack jawed. Dick jitters in place and then he’s moving forward, hugging Bruce with everything he’s got and more. Bruce hugs him back, it’s a quick one but Dick is beaming when he steps back. Red can’t stop the bittersweet smile but it drops soon after.

Kaldur steps forward, hand out and Bruce shakes it with a nod. A smile slithering on his face for a second and then it’s gone. The team mutters under their breathes, eyeing Bruce with varying emotions.

“What is going on-“ Clark’s voice fades into shock, hovering in the air in disbelief before he’s moving, standing in front of Bruce and Tim can’t make out their expressions. The red cape flaps as Clark rests a hand on Bruce’s shoulder, turning to face the others just as Black Canary walks in.

A flash of shock and then she’s smiling, striding forward with a purpose. She stands on Bruce’s other side as other members of the league filters in.

“Good to have you back, Bruce.”

They don’t mention Tim and Tim nearly laughs but he swallows it and holds it down. He holds down a sob and his breathing goes funny for a second but it’s enough for Conner to turn and glance back at him. M’gann turns around at his movement and then she’s smiling, floating forward as Conner stays in place. No one notices, to busy with talking to Bruce or about him. To caught up with him being alive, being here. Red wouldn’t want to ruin that.

M’gann lands in front of him and Red sends her a smile, remembering the time she helped him hide his identity. M’gann has stayed the same, kind smile and kind eyes as her skin changed colour. She’s her own person now, it’s good and nice and it suits her.

She reaches out and Red stiffens but M’gann still wraps her arms around him anyway. Wearily Red pats her back, trying not to get attached to someone again. It only ends in hurt.

When she pulls back her hands rest on his shoulders as she looks him over. She nods and Tim wonders why. “Thank you.”

Red nods, it’s a jerky thing but M’gann just grins before she’s pulling back. She glances at the group and then at Tim but Red shakes his head and she floats away.

Conner watches, eyes narrowed and then they’re widening and his head is snapping to M’gann and shit, that isn’t good. Red is moving then, silent and quick as hands begin to move from more people. The League is frowning and starting to look around as the team remain oblivious and Dick is pale in the face.

The computer is scanning him and Red is basically running forward, into the blinding white light as Dick cries out, words pained.

“Wait!”

Red Robin’s steel capped boots skid across the ground as he stops. He doesn’t know why but Dick visibly sags as the team filters out of the room with frowns.

He jerks his head, a sign to continue and then Dinah is walking forward, slow and cautious and Red scowls. Dinah blinks before she straightens her shoulders and strides forward with a purpose. The room is silent.

“How did you know?” Dinah asks and Tim stares, letting out a snort that has half the group raising their eyebrows.

Red doesn’t answer and Dinah frowns as Oliver walks forward. “Why didn’t you tell us kid?”

Red stares at him, right past the whiteouts and he shifts, obviously uncomfortable but Red is trying not to bust a liver because this is damn _hilarious_. Didn’t Dick tell them?

“Son.” Clark begins and Red rolls his eyes, turns around and walks away but a grip on his shoulder stops him.

“Where are you going?” That’s Dick and Red forcefully shoves his hand off and Dick staggers back, hurt. Tim doesn’t care.

Before Tim can go anywhere Clark is in the way, floating and Tim knows that’s an gesture he uses for people being _difficult_. Red wishes he could get the kryptonite out of his pocket but the movement would make them on _edge_ and Red really didn’t want to wasete his time _beating_ these people. He had other things, bettter things to be doing.

“I’m done.” He says and his voice is strong and clear. Dinah starts, walking forward but Tim cuts her off with a look.

“Done with what?” Clark asks and Red wants to punch him. Too bad it would only distract him for a short while. Clark wouldn’t even feel it and that _annoys_ Red.

“I’m done with the league, I’m finished.”

It’s silent and then Barry’s stepping forward with a frown. “You don’t mean that kid.”

“I do.” Tim answers simply, crouching and launching over Clark’s shoulders like a springboard before anyone could even _move_.

He eyes them over his shoulder, spots their shocked look and Dick’s pained expression. Bruce doesn’t show any emotions and Tim doesn’t doubt he knew this was coming. He nearly laughs. Looks like Bruce didn’t want him on this team either.

“I’m not a dusty thing on a shelf to be polished when needed and put back for next time. Not anymore.”

He walks into the light, says his farewell with a closed off expression that sends shivers down their spines.

“Do you think I’m still crazy?”

And then he’s gone.

—

Red is in his apartment by the time the words process in their heads. He pulls of his mask and Tim sighs. After all this they still don’t trust him to be a good enough vigilante? Hasn’t he done _enough_?

Tim curses the supers and their cheating. A couple of scars and a bruised body isn’t that big of a deal, he can still do his job. Either way he pulls up his laptop, types a report on how he got Bruce back.

As the sun rises the league will have it. They won’t take Red Robin away from him and he makes that perfectly clear in his report. He leaves it at that.

Tim is done with the league.

 


	14. Wake me up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Damian is done with the league. Ever since his brothers death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One day I’ll make a series of the reverse au! I love it so much after all!

Damian gritted his teeth, feeling his gut coil in horror and hot burning hate. His hands clutched at his katana and his feet were strong and steady as he stood on broken glass and cold stone.

Ras raised his head, a twisted smirk in place as he stared at Damian. He stood up from his throne, walking forwards with long graceful steps that had Damian glaring.

Two feet away and he stopped, his cloak wrapping around him in protection. He lifted a hand, staring Damian in the eye as he signalled for the Assassins to stand down. They searched their swords and stood back, eyeing Damian in distrust.

A feral growl left Damian’s throat and the masked people left. Ras raised a eyebrow.

“They’re no longer yours to lead, grandson.” The words were taunting and Damian’s grip on the katana tightened, the silver flashing from the sun.

“I’m no grandson of yours.” Damian growled out. Hate burned his very being and his teeth gnashed at his lips. His green eyes narrowed and Ras raised a brow, looking amused.

“Wrong. You will always be my grandson.”  
He stated, fingering the knife he slipped from his cloak.

“I no longer associate myself with the league. Not since you killed my brother.” Damian snarled, low and angry and Tim’s broken corpse flashed behind his eyelids. Bloodied and broken beyond repair.

“It was sick a shame too. He was a good detective. Too bad he had to die because of your foolishness.”

Damian lunged with a yell, his katana high in the air when Ras moved. The knife was thrown and sunk into Damian’s shoulder to the hilt. Ras slithered forward and their weapons clashed, sparking in the air.

They pushed, sword and katana scraping against each other in fury as the wielders glared at each other behind sparks, muscles shaking as they pushed with all their might.

“Timothy was my brother! He had nothing to do with the league and nothing to do with you!” Damian spat, trembling as his Katana slipped for a second. He readjusted himself, snarling as Ras eyes twinkled in amusement.

“Oh but he did, Damian. He was smart, a clever boy that would’ve bared my children. He would’ve been twice the heir you would have ever been.”

Sparks flashed and Damian was thrown back, shaking his head in fury. His thighs shook and he lifted his katana as Ras ran forward, sword slashing down in terrifying accuracy.

“He could’ve been the perfect heir. It’s such a shame your mother had to betray me and hand you off to the detective. Maybe I should’ve went for the street runt instead!”

Damian roared, swinging his katana around and sending Ras sword flying. It struck the concrete and clattered onto the ground with a bang that left silence except for Damian’s heavy breathing.

“You will not touch Todd.” He snarled out, arms quaking as he staggered forward. “You will not harm my family again!”

Damian raced forward, katana slicing and spraying blood everywhere. It splattered against the cream coloured walls and left Damian with a sick satisfaction.

Ras slumped against the ground, raising his head shakily to glare at Damian with such hatred. “You will never have a place in the league.”

“I never wanted it.” Damian snarled, backing away to the window as footsteps thundered against stone, swords being drawn.

Damian was long gone before the ninja arrived to help their master to the pit.

Ras whole body shook as he crawled out the pit, panting and spitting out the burning liquid from his throat. He shook before he steadied himself, heaving himself up and letting his pawns dress him.

The dark figures stood before him silently, awaiting their orders from their masters. Ras felt a smirk crawl onto his lips.

“Dig up Timothy’s grave. He proves to be useful.”

—

Bruce eyed him with a dead look when Damian entered the cave. His shoulders were hunched, dark bangs under his eyes as he eyed the blood on Damian’s suit. He twitched when his eyes landed on the katana.

“Tim wouldn’t have been happy with what you did tonight.” He grunted out and Damian frowned as Alfred wondered over, looking worst for wear.

Damian said nothing as Alfred worked on his shoulder. It didn’t take long for the knife to come out and Damian grunted when the stitching started.

“Sorry young master.” Alfred’s voice was tired, laced with exhaustion’s as his fingers moved more slowly than usual.

Damian shook his head, dismissing the apology as Alfred continued to stitch him up. His green eyes caught at Tim’s Robin suit and Damian flinched.

It was covered in blood and pieces were torn up and missing. Damian turned away, eyes burning as he remembered the night.

Everyone was in a frenzy. Alfred was working the computers as Cassandra tried to keep Jason distracted. Jason was angry, wiggling in Cass’ arms as he shouted.

Damian remembered how Jason wanted to come, how he wanted his favourite older brother back. He wanted to end Ras, shouted it as tears streamed down his face. Damian tempered Brice snapping at him and then storming to the Batmobile and driving off.

Damian remembers kneeling in front of Jason who eyed him through teary blue eyes. He promised he’d bring Tim back and Jason said he’d better because Timmy still had to teach him how to use the bo because he was the best at it.

Damian had agreed and ruffled his hair in a show of rare affection. Cass has looked at him with scared eyes, terrified to loose Tim and him. He promised her he’d bring Tim back before he left.

He did bring Tim back, dead and blood with a sword through the heart and a slit throat. He’s never going to make another promise again.

“All done Master Damian.” Damian mumbled a thanks as he walked away.

“Damian! You’ve got to stop, tim wouldn’t have wanted this.” Brice roared, voice cracking near the end and Alfred’s form trembled at the corner of Damian’s eye.

“Tim’s dead.” Damian responded simply.

—

He wasn’t dead anymore.

Damian snarled as he fought through Ras men, killing the people he once ruled. He broke bones, snapped necks as he fought his way through to Timothy.

The last man fell with a grunt of pain, limbs twitching as Damian stepped over him. His grandfather turned around with a frown, eyes skittering over the bodies with dissatisfaction.

“I’ll come back for him.” Ras finally said, stepping back as smoke covered his retreating form.

“Like hell.” Damian muttered, as he stepped into the lazuras. The green liquid swirled around his form as he walked further to the floating warm.

He waded his way through, hands pulling at a pale arm void of scars. The body dragged towards him and Damian felt tears prick at his eyes as blue eyes peeled open slowly.

“Dami?”

“Welcome back, brother.”


	15. Once gained, only to loose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not give this headcannon justice!
> 
> I swear I love you, Cass!

“How is she, Alfred?”

Alfred let out a sigh and shook his head. Tim knew something was wrong, not just a broken bone or a gun shot wound, but something worse and that scared him.

Cassandra was skilled, moved like flowing water with all the grace in the world. She was deadly and beautiful and she was absolutely brilliant. She’s survived and fought through hell, smiled and loved despite all the pain and horror she’s been put through.

Now she was on one of those shit mattresses on a metal table with a bandage wrapped around her head. That wasn’t right and it made Tim’s gut twist in fear and nervousness.

“She’s not good, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s shoulders sagged and his back hunched a little as he said the words that seemed to drain the remaining strength the man had. Tim’s gut clenched as Alfred handed over the list of injuries.

His fingers closed around the clip board and he skimmed through the list, cringing as the injuries worsened. A broken ankle, cracked wrist, muscle tearing in the calf and damage to the cerebrum of the brain.

All the injuries were the standard in this line of work but what particularly caught Tim’s attention was the brain injury. The Cerebrum part of the brain is large and Tim’s gut twists uncomfortably at the amount of damage the hit could’ve caused.

“I’m going to go check on her.” Tim mumbled out and he saw Alfred nod in the corner of his eye. He pretended he didn’t see the way Alfred’s shoulders shake as he walked pass the old clock.

His foot falls echoed around the cave and the bats flapped their wings in protest and shuffled on the spot. Tim knows Cass on a regular day would just know when he was here, wouldn’t need any loud footsteps or anything. She would just know but Tim didn’t want to risk it, wanted to help her out and he knew she would appreciate it.

It nearly made him smile, knowing Cass would appreciate it. Any of the other bats took it as pity, thought it was because they were hurt and that made them weak. Tim was guilty of it and he knew it too but Cass knew it was meant to help her and she appreciated it.

Tim wasn’t even half way done the stairs when he noticed the light blue curtains drawn up around the medical tables. Compared to all the bleakness of the cave it stood out like a sore thumb. It was similar to the way Robin stood next to Batman, completely different.

Tim wiped his hands on his thighs as he neared the curtains. He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous, scared if he was being honest with himself but something seemed wrong. It made his fingers clench and uncurl as he pulled back the blue curtain.

Cass looked at him, a small smile that trembled as her eyes swam with unrecognisable emotions. Her hands were placed in her lap and Tim instantly took notice of how they trembled, shook and flinched on the scratchy blanket.

“Hey, Cassie.” Tim whispered, walking forward and dragging the green plastic chair to her bedside. Cass’ smile twitched but she stubbornly held it in place.

Tim’s stomach sunk to his feet and twisted around his ribs as he watched his sister struggle and he didn’t even know what was wrong. It wasn’t right and it made his throat clench as he swallowed, Adam’s apple bopping as he took in his sister.

He leaned forward, fingers brushing charcoal hair behind her ear. The white bandage was a stark contrast to her locks and it made Tim’s lips twitch up in amusement.

He lowered his hand, fingers entwining with Cass’ pale and trembling fingers. He rubbed his thumb over her bruised knuckles, stopping when she flinched ever so slightly.

“What’s wrong, Cass?” Tim managed to ask through dry lips and Cass looked at him with her dark eyes. It made Tim’s heart clench and his stomach to roll.

Shakily she pulled her hands away from Tim’s, fingers trembling as she began to sign. Tim saw her world crashing down as she did.

Her hands shook the whole way through and by the time they thumped against her thighs in exhaustion tears were streaming down her cheeks and leaving trails through the dirt marking her face. Tim’s chest tightened and he stood up, climbing onto the steel medical bed and pulling his sister to his chest.

Cassandra cried into Tim’s chest and Tim ran his shaking fingers through her hair as he stared at the ceiling. Tim was good at reading sign language, knew it just as well as breathing, but he’s never wished to be wrong so much before.

‘I can’t read, I can’t speak.’

Cass has worked so hard with her speech, with her reading and because of some stupid thug who got a little lucky it was all gone. Tim didn’t even know if she was able to learn again, if the hit had caused that much damage.

Life wasn’t fair, that much Tim knew as he rocked Cass back and forth. He’d help her, as much as he could and that was a promise. Cassandra Cain deserved so much more than this.

 


	16. A turn of events

Tim can feel his teeth grinding harshly against each other, his skin is crawling and it’s making it awfully hard to keep up his press perfect smile. He keeps grinding his teeth because if he doesn’t he’s going to say some not nice things.

Cass and Duke are mingling together, the two never one for galas or charity events. They didn’t desire to go but as it was for raising money for children who needed it they decided to come. All night it had been fine, no incidents and nothing staggering that the press would have a field day.

This is not the reason Tim’s skin is crawling. It’s crawling because a faceless rich man is red in the face, champagne glass tipping dangerously low and talking to Duke. Tim’s teeth grind as he drops the press smile as Cass’ eyes turn dark and angry. Her hands twitch, either to sign something or punch the idiot in the face.

Tim would prefer the second one, knew Cass would too but that cause a big scene even if the punch was desirable.

Duke looked mildly uncomfortable but was shrugging it off, used to it and that, if possible, made Tim even angrier. The drunken man let out a little burp, scowling at Duke and eyeing Cass when she took his hands to take him away.

His words carried over to Tim who was a few meters away, talking to another faceless stranger. The stranger was looking at him strangely, most likely wondering why his smile was twitching on his face.

“How did a black guy like you hit up a girl like that? Come on baby girl, I can give you a better time than this faggot can ever can.”

Tim was striding over before he even finished the sentence. Heard the woman he was talking to tut in annoyance but Tim couldn’t care less. His teeth was grinding again and his fingers flexed and curled into a loose fist as he approached the three. The whole room seemed to silence as Tim pulled the two behind him so he could face the man.

The man hiccuped, champagne dribbling onto his shoes at the movement. Tim wasn’t fooled, if the man can speak straight than he was sober enough. Sober enough he knew exactly what he was saying.

“I’m asking you to leave.” Tim said simply, keeping his voice pleasant despite the anger and disgust swirling in his stomach.

“Huh?” The man blinked, completely baffled. “I’ve done nothing wrong, boy!” This caught everyone’s attention and they stopped and stared, reporters bribing out their cameras.

“I’ll ask you one more time.” Tim said simply, voice unimpressed and neutral. “Leave.”

The mans eyes turned black in fury but he wasn’t drunk enough to consider lashing out on a billionaires son. “Do you even know who I am?” He snapped instead, tumbling forward slightly.

“Not at all.” Tim said like he was talking about the latest stock market. “And if you keep harassing my brother and sexually advancing on my sister? I’ll have no choice but to contact our lawyers that on retainer. I’m positive they’re itching for something to do, they must get so bored since our last real legal case.”

Tim runs a hand over his slightly crinkled sleeve, smoothing out the fabric before politely clamping his hands together in front of him. He raises a delicate eyebrow to the pale man as the reporters lean impossibly closer.

“Is there something wrong, sir?” Tim asked, being polite. He still has an image to uphold after all. “Is it possible that I’m making you uncomfortable?”

The man eyes flicker at the people watching and he shakes his head, placing down his champagne class with a loud thud that echoes around the quiet room.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets and begins to turn, muttering under his breath. “Fucking whore and her fucking black ass faggot man slut.”

Tim’s striding forward, pale slender fingers gripping the mans shoulder harshly. He doesn’t turn him around and the man doesn’t turn either, visibly startled and scared.

“Say another word about my family and I will hire the best people to dig up every little piece of trash they can find on you.” Tim says it loud, a warning not only to this person but any one else.

“I don’t expect to see you near any of us again, Mr. Wilson.” Tim adds and would you look at that? It looks like Tim did remember him after all. It must’ve slipped his mind.

He harshens his grip just slightly, gets a squeak and a nod that has him pulling on his polite and Timothy Wayne smile. “Good.”

The man scurries as soon as Tim lets go and Tim watches in upmost amusement as the press begins to follow. Mr. Wilson will finally big enough to be on the news again.

Tim turns around, after making sure the man is truly gone. He’ll dig up dirt on the man later, in case he’s foolish enough to take it further.

He smiles brightly at the people staring at him. Past Duke’s wide eyes and Cass’ amused ones. Past Dick’s blinking ones, Jason’s laughing form and Damian’s glowering form at the man and Bruce’s raised brow in amusement. He claps his hands, startling a few people.

“Let’s get back to the event, shall we? “

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> None of the bats would stand for this! I don’t either ;-;
> 
> @buisness-as-usual-bats from tumblr gave me this idea! Go check em’ out of you want


	17. Testing out the ‘selfie’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should be asleep 
> 
> (⋟﹏⋞)

Damian’s brow twitched when Drake made another obnoxiously loud yawn. That was the fourth time in a minute.

As much as Damian wished to maim his so called predecessor he knew his father, and Grayson for that matter, would not take it so kindly. Neither would Pennyworth and Damian has learned the hard way that Pennyworth’s word is law. Even father respected him, so there for Damian would show him respect. Maiming Drake would misplace that respect no matter how much Damian wished to.

However if Drake yawned one more time Damian may just launch himself across the coffee table to strangle him. Damian was trying to concentrate on his sketch. It was a drawing of Gotham’s buildings skylines with the sunset barley peeking above the building. Drake’s constant yawning was ruining his concentration and Damian would assume the oath would understand that when he jammed his earphones in. Apparently not.

Drake let out another large yawn, eyes watering as he covers his mouth. Damian’s toes dig into his thighs and his hand clenched around his mechanical pencil to halt himself from laughing at him.

Finally Drake stood up and stretched, yawning as he did. Damian prayed he was going to bed or to the cave. Anywhere away for Damian and his sketching.

Instead Drake said, “I’m going to go grab a coffee. You want anything?”

Damian was about to snap at him that he didn’t want any of that poisonous beverage when he thought better of it. If he requested Drake to get him something he’ll stay away longer. Hopefully long enough for Damian to finish the buildings.

“Tea.” Damian grumbled out. He’d prefer hot chocolate but he didn’t trust Drake of all people to make it. The only acceptable person was Pennyworth and he wasn’t around. Father was at a meeting at W.E because he thought Drake deserved a break. Grayson and Pennyworth were out food shopping. So Damian was stuck with Drake. It was beyond irritating.

Drake hummed and nodded, waving a hand as he left. Damian wondered if he even heard him. With the way he swayed on his feet, Damian doubted it. Hopefully drake will stay away long enough anyway.

Damian eyed him as he vanished around the archway, releasing a breath when he disappeared. Now to get back to his drawing.

He tried to concentrate on his work but Drake’s phone kept buzzing on the coffee table. Damian eyes it in distaste before he let out a growl and placed his sketch in the pillow next to him.

He leaned forward and yanked the phone of the table, scowling at the texts from Stephanie. Of course the woman would spam Drake with texts when Damian was attempting to concentrate on his art work. The woman always manages to grate on Damian’s nerves.

Damian scowled and swiped the screen up, intending to give the girl a piece of his mind. Instead the camera screen popped up and Damian jumped in surprise as his own face starred back at him, thumb hitting the white circle in his startle.

He blinked before he scowled even harder, pressing on the little square box on the bottom left. It filled up the screen and Damian frowned at the surprise in his eyes and his crinkled brow. It looked ridiculous. He pressed the small rubbish bin and was satisfied as it deleted.

Damian starred at the white screen that said there were no current photos. If he was correct he had just did a selfie, a ridiculous thing his foolish classmates were obsessed with. Even Grayson took them.

He hesitated for a second before he went back to the camera. His own face starred back at him. He stole a look at the archway where he could hear drake grumbling about people not filling the coffee pot up after they were finished it. He turned back to the screen.

He bit his lip before lifting his hand on range of the camera and holding up a ‘peace’ sign. He pulled on a neutral face and tapped the button with his other thumb. Damian looked at the little photo in the corner of the screen. It wasn’t half bad actually.

Damian stole another glance at the doorway before he turned back to the camera. He pulled on a simple smile and clicked the button. That one was better surprisingly.

He thought for a bit before he went cross eyed and took the photo. He had seen many people in his class do this particular pose. He looked at the little box before snorting. It was ridiculous, in a amusing way.

He pulled faces at the camera and simple smiles. He even hung upside down on the couch to take one at some point. He wasn’t quite sure why but it was amusing. Don’t get him wrong, the notion of selfies were ridiculous but they were amusing at times.

A clank from the kitchen mad Damian sit up and he eyed the doorway. A muttered finally and quiet footsteps had Damian launching his upper body across the table to place the phone back. He stuffed in a earbud and went crossed leg, picking up his sketchbook and mechanical pencil in a hurry.

A second later Drake walked through the doorway with a stiff led yawn, carrying to cups. He did hear Damian then. He placed the tea in front of Damian and he let out a grunt in acknowledgment. Drake hummed before sitting in the armchair, taking a sip of his coffee before placing it in the glass table. Damian felt himself go stiff when Drake picked up his phone.

Drake didn’t do anything however. Instead he smiled and shook his head and his phone tapped as he responded to, presumably, Brown’s text.

Damian relaxed, sinking into his seat as he starred at his sketch. After a while he started his sketching once again, after talking a sip of his acceptable tea. Not as good as Pennyworth’s but acceptable.

He should’ve known not to let his guard down however because a minute later Drake let out a surprised hum. Damian peaked over the top of his book before humiliation and embarrassment swim through him at Drake’s starring.

“What.” Damian snapped, feeling his face heat up.

“Did you,” Drake began, biting his lip and failing to hinder his grin, “take selfies on my phone?”

Damian huffed, not answering as he starred at his drawing. Denying would be futile as it couldn’t possibly be any one else. Damian didn’t need to loose any more pride by admitting it however.

“You did!” Drake continued and Damian rolled his eyes. That much was painstakingly obvious.

Damian scowled as Drake flicked through the photos, grinning wider as he went. It was down really for humiliating.

“We should take a selfie.” Drake suddenly claimed, tilting his head in thought.

“No.” Damian deadpanned. He curses whoever made up this ‘selfie’ thing.

“Oh come on!” Drake exclaimed, leaning forward on his chair. “Just one?”

“Will you stop pestering me if I say yes?” Damian snapped, regretting his words immediately as Drake’s expression brightened up.

“Promise.” Drake swore before he stood up and flopped down next to Damian.

Damian wasn’t about to do it without some conditions however. “Show anyone these photos and I will stab you.”

Drake blinked before a genuine smile split across his face. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

He fiddled with his phone before lifting it up with a grin. Damian huffed, looking to the side. Drake’s thumb brushed against the button and it appeared in the box.

Drake nudged his shoulder and ruffled his hair in amusement. Damian smiled at the action, it was something father and Grayson would do. He looked up and the phone flashed.

“Okay,” Drake smiles. “One more.”

“It better.” Damian grumbled before smiling at the camera, noticing the fingers above his head. He smirked before doing the same and Drake grinned, looking amused as he took the photo.

“See?” Drake said, pocketing his phone as he stood up. “It wasn’t so bad!”

“If you show those to anyone I will stab you.” Damian reminded, huffing and crossing his arms across his chest stubbornly.

“I won’t.” Drake repeated with a smile that Damian actually found reassuring. He picked up his empty cup before throwing over his shoulder, “besides, being if I did they wouldn’t mind. If Dick saw it, he’d be thrilled you’re acting like a kid.”

“I’m not a child, Drake!” Damian fumed, feeling his chest twinge at the thought of Grayson being proud over something so ridiculous.

Drake called back, teasing and grinning in a way that Damian knew was just ‘brotherly’ banter as Grayson called it. “Could’ve fooled me!”

Damian forgot about his drawing, launching himself across the table as Drake began running away while laughing. Damian smiled slightly.

——

Later that night Drake sent Damian the three photos. By the morning all three of them were framed and stashed away in the false bottom of his top draw.

Damian also saved it as his screen saver. It would keep his image of being a normal kid after all. Maybe it wasn’t completely ridiculous. Maybe.

 

 

 

 

 


	18. Rest now

“Can you do that thing you did earlier?”

Dick blinked before looking over at Tim who he had previously thought was asleep. Tim laid next to him, face half hidden in the pillow, cheeks turning pink.

“What thing?” Dick prods gently, placing his phone on the plastic chair from the bed. Tim had a bad dose of fear gas and Dick refuses to leave his side.

Tim is still new. He’s small, smaller than Jason when he was still here. He was even smaller than Dick when he was Robin and that was saying something. He was tiny and Dick refuses to leave his new little brother alone, unlike Bruce who was sulking upstairs in his self pity. Dick would have a word with him if he wasn’t to bust keeping his little brother company.

Tim’s cheeks get redder and his nose scrunches up a little, brows furrowing in thought. Dick waits patiently, because Timmy is never the best at talking and even less so when he believes it’s an inconvenience. 

“You know,” Tim licked his lips, winching when his tongue swiped at his cut lip. “When I was under the dose. That thing with my hair.”

Dick frowns in thought. Tim hadn’t been screaming, just terrifyingly quiet with tears dripping down his cheeks. Dick remembers his stomach twisting in fear as he cradled him in his arms, twisting his locks with his fingers and scratching his scalp in a form of comfort.

“It was nice.” Tim mumbles, turning away in the bed, legs tangling in the warm sheets. His cheeks were still red and his shoulders were tight in, what Dick guessed, was embarrassment and discomfort.

Dick, in slow and careful movements that he knew Timmy would pick up on, reaches his hand out and buried it in Tim’s hair. Tim tenses slightly, flinching in surprise but after a moment his form goes slack. 

“Like that?” Dick whispered, drawing slow circles against Timmy’s scalp. He smiles at Tim’s sigh of breath and his sluggish nod. Dick watched his eyes flutter and his breathing go even for the first time that night. He’s finally resting.

Dick leans back and closes his eyes, smiling as Tim mumbles something in his sleep. He inches his body closer and Dick smiles and cradles him. His little brother is going to be alright, Dick would make sure of that.


	19. Warmth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, this is so short :/

Damian woke with a start with a stab of panic and for a moment he isn’t sure where he is. His muscles and body twinged at the movement and Damian settled down, once he recognises the place, listening to the bats screech above. 

He realises, rather suddenly, how warm his left hand and right calf are. He blinks, eyes adjusting to the darkness of the cave. Richard is asleep at his beside, chair as close as possible to the cot. His hands are clasped tightly around Damian’s left hand, grip tight. Damian frowns at the purple nail polish on his fingernails before sighing at the Grayson of it all. Damian ignores how the pressure of his palm against the back of his hand is familiar, reassuring.

Damian is startled at the next figure and he stared for a second. Drake is laying on the mattress, left hand gripping Damian’s calf as he sleeps. His other hand is curled under his chest, clutching at the sheets. 

Damian notices the difference of the holds. Grayson’s is tight while Drakes is more loose, if only slightly. Their both just as warm, just as tender.

He lets out a huff, shuffling under the sheets slightly to get comfortable. The holds on his calf and hand get tighter and Damian decides it’d be a nuisance to push them off. Besides, it’s freezing in the cave and the body heat the two are giving off is a nice welcome.

“You gave us a scare.” Damian curses his slight jump, eyes darting around before he spotted Todd leaning against the medical table a metre away.

Todd’s lips twitch up in amusement and Damian scowls and prepares to fight when the giant lumbers forward. He’s quite surprised when all Todd does was ruffle his hair before walking away, steps echoing.

“He’s right you know.” Damian didn’t jump this time. There’s a squeak from the wheelie chair in front of the big computer.

Thomas comes into view a second later, blankets stacked in his arms. He doesn’t say anything, just gives Damian a tired smile. He carefully places a red fluffy blanket around Drake’s shoulders before tucking a yellow one around Damian.

Damian grumbles but Thomas simply gives him a look of amusement, patting his shoulder before walking around the cot to place a green blanket over Grayson. Grayson let’s out a soft sigh, sinking a little lower on the plastic chair. Damian resists tutting and pinching the older boy.

“Go back to sleep, Damian. The girls are taking care of Gotham with Bruce.”

Damian nods, eyes trailing after Thomas before he exited his view. He lets out a sigh, closing his eyes as the memories of the night begin to comeback. 

As if they knew the hand on his hand tighter and the pressure on his calf increased before loosening. Damian could sleep in peace. The horrors and memories will be back in the morning but for now all is quiet and at peace.


	20. Forget them not

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um, don’t kill me, please?
> 
> Warnings: A little swearing

Sometimes Jason forgets. Sometimes, when his throat is raw from screaming and his body is thrumming with life he can’t remember.

He can’t remember why he’s _breathing_ , can’t remember why his body is larger and his muscles are too _big_. His eyes are wide and his heart is thumping and he’s breathing and he’s not sure why.

His fingers clench at his sheets and his head snaps to the side. A photograph glows in the moonlight. Jason recognises Dick and Bruce but they look different, _older_. Theres others too and Jason should know them, feel it in his bones and he should remember because Jason is with them, smiling. He has his arms thrown over a skinny boys shoulder and messing a kids hair and Jay should know them because he wouldn’t be doing that _otherwise_ but he just _can’t remember_ -

And then it all rushes back in a flood, as if it never was gone and it was always there, and the guilt strangles tight in his chest. They were his family, his _assholes_ of a family and as much as Jason pretended to not need them he did. He forgot them, if only for a second and that’s not right.

He hates to admit it, but it’s scaring him. Terrifies him because every time he wakes up it gets that little bit harder to remember.

Jason can’t afford to forget because he forgot in the lazuras and it wasn’t pretty. Jason doesn’t want to forget, not again.

With shaky limbs he pushes himself up by his elbows. His hands tremble and he clenches them into a fist in stubbornness. A harsh breath is sucked through his chattering teeth and he reaches out for the com resting on the side cabinet.

His fingers fumble for a grip and he presses it into the palm of his hand when he gets a hold of it. Jason shakily brings it to his ear, fastening it in and pressing the button with stiff fingers.

Instantly the com sparks to life and Jason is assaulted with bickering. He keeps his on mute and slumped against the head rest of the bed, staring blankly at the window.

The wind howls gently, singing into the night. The curtain flutters, dancing along to the unsung song. Jason simply stares, knowing one day he might not be able to remember. So he’ll listen to his family bicker as his mind swims, drowning in memories he might not remember.


End file.
